She walked down the well-rehearsed path of Hogwarts halls, though they seemed unusually dark and deserted today. She knew why, of course, and that very reason was why she was certain her eyes were ablaze with all her emotions. It had been over a week since Horris died, but only now would Draco allow her to see him. Her steps faltered slightly while turning the corner into a hallway filled with Slytherins. The nightmare from the train… the one she could barely remember having, much less the content, returned full force. Never before had she believed in prophecies and premonitions, but as those she had gotten to know like a second family parted before her, she could not have denied the existence of such divinations.

Unlike her dream-turned-premonition, however, she understood. She knew. Knew why all of them were silent as statues, why none wished to meet her gaze. All their emotions that she had noticed in September she felt once more, now conscious of their origin and meaning. They felt they had failed him, she knew, yet nothing anyone said or did could alleviate their belief.

As she passed from Slytherins to Asps, a distinction she failed to make in her dream, Draco broke from their number, almost hesitant in his step. He had always considered her off limits to anyone but his Alpha, as did all Asps, though nothing of an intimate nature had transpired between Horris and herself. It was not so much that they thought she belonged to Horris, either; they simply saw them both in positions of power. How she had attained this power, she could not begin to fathom herself. Not until Horris died, really, did she even know she wielded it at all. Before, she had attributed the Asp acquiescence to her requests as courtesy, because she was under Horris’ ‘protection’ or slowly becoming their friend.

Even as he hugged her, gave her the comfort she so desperately longed for, she could feel his fear of overstepping some boundary neither knew. She ignored it, however, content to bury her face in him and have him lead her the rest of the way.

Dumbledore had allotted them ten days. They had ten days to put their affairs in order, ten days to decide their path, ten days to mourn. They had not told her of his deadline, but she would learn of it soon enough. For now, they’d make sure she got a chance to mourn in peace.

Draco knocked softly on the door, opening it without waiting for any real answer. The professor was expecting them, and no one else would dare come here uninvited, especially not now. He felt her shift her weight off him, not sure if he should perhaps turn back and leave her in the professor’s hands. He felt her stiffen, slightly, and in a blink, she had charged at Horris’ father.

He had not seen her so violent since Draco had told her Horris was in Voldemort’s hands, and could not help but feel slight relief that it was not aimed at him, for once. He winced when the blows against the professor’s chest turned hard on a few occasions, timed with instances of barely coherent vocalizations. The whole time the professor stood still, as if the physical blows helped ease the man’s emotional anguish as well as her own. Or, perhaps, he still blamed himself for the loss of his son. Unfortunately, Draco feared the latter was far more likely.

He watched as the tantrum drained the energy from her, half springing when her strength finally left her. The professor caught her with ease, however, preferring the poor girl more tenderness in the embrace than Draco could have. The feeling of interrupting something overwhelmed him once more, and were it not for the Professor’s forcedly unaffected seeming words, he would have left right then.

“Draco…” the father of his Alpha beckoned softly, eyes betraying how forced the normality of his voice truly was.

“Are you certain, Professor?” he questioned in turn, knowing what he was asking of him before the man had to ask.

“Anything less would prove quite cruel, I fear.”

“She’s been insistent, Sir, she might think it’s an attempt to keep her from him.”

“She has waited a week, Draco, she can wait another hour,” the man insisted, his gaze lowering onto the veil of hair on his chest, “She would rather see him when her cognitive abilities are properly functioning, surely.”

Draco nodded, once, slowly moving to the two whom Horris had entrusted into his care. He placed a soothing palm on her shoulder, needing but a trace of venom to let a peaceful sleep overtake her.

“On the sofa, Draco,” the professor instructed gently, easing his hold on her so Draco could lift her into his arms. He wondered if offering to heal the professor’s bruised torso would only result in harsh words and an even greater blow to the man’s pride, opting finally for a subtle dose once the man was safely asleep and unaware.

“Have you decided how you will answer Dumbledore, Draco?”

“In the negative, Sir, obviously,” Draco answered shortly. “He cannot honestly expect me to undermine Horris’ authority.”

“Draco…” the professor cautioned, “they are your Asps now, do not let what you think Horris might have decided keep you from making educated decisions.”

“Are you saying I should accept?” he asked incredulously. “Trade one master for another?”

“I am simply warning you that whatever you decide must be your choice, not Horris’. As proud as I am of my son’s leadership, his precedent cannot impede your ability to lead your Asps.”

His Asps. Merlin, the very though sent trembles down his spine. His Asps. No… no, he couldn’t do it… not his. Horris’s. Not Draco’s. His Alpha’s words of caution, spoken oh-so-long ago it seemed, reverberated in his ears once more… this time sounding more like a curse than words of warning. Horris had cautioned him to prepare for this very situation, but now that it was here… he…he…

“-co! Draco, stop this instant!”

He was shaking. The professor was holding his wrist in a vice grip and Draco-fucking-Malfoy, supposed leader of the great and powerful Asps, was shaking like some damnable five year old afraid of the dark.

“Have you returned to your bloody senses?” the Potions Master growled, “or do I need to toss you into the bloody lake before you pull your wits about you? Unfortunately, neither of us has the luxury to show weakness within these cursed walls. Few things can change your lot in life, so I suggest you learn to deal with it. Now, are you going to act like the leader you are, or am I going to post watchers to your person so as not to have to explain you leaping off the bloody Astronomy tower… or some other halfwit attempt to escape from your life and responsibilities? Your Asps cannot handle another loss right now. I will not have them all suffer because you cannot handle a little extra pressure. See to Lea, and for Merlin’s sake, you had best shape up!”

Draco, still shaking slightly and presently gaping like a fish, could do nothing but watch the man leave with his wide gray eyes. Only after the Professor had gone could he manage a sharp nod and weak, ‘Yes, Sir.’ The man was right, of course, Draco owed the Asps and Lea… and the Professor. He had to be strong, for them and for himself. He knew the Alpha’s father was close to his limit… closer than Draco, perhaps, and the blond felt like kicking himself for hurting the man further. Doing it in front of Lea or the Asps would have been worse… he was their strength, after all, and if he broke down by himself, he might never snap out of it.

He sighed gazing at Lea’s sleeping form, realizing that the professor was right on all accounts. Draco was being an idiot, and if he didn’t get a hold of himself, who knows what might happen.

Draco gently rubbed the calming salve onto her forehead, hoping it would help her on her visit, before rubbing some onto his own. For him, the act was purely self-assurance, as most mood-altering concoctions worked by creating chemical imbalances that an Asp’s healing venom immediately countered. Preparing himself for what might be round two of her tantrum, Draco slowly set to waking her sleeping form.

Thankfully, a stiff Horris-like glare was the only indication of her anger.

“May I see him now, Draco?” the annoyance in her voice was clear, through it held a definite tang of resigned defeat. In response, Draco nodded slowly, ushering her gently to the nearby room.

He remained by the door as she attentively walked to the form on the bed, pausing almost uncertainly before reaching down and moving some stray hairs from his face… as a mother comforts a sleeping child. The thought struck him so suddenly that he had to physically brace himself against the wall, his calm mask slipping for a second.

Transfixed, he watched the hand repeat its motion a few more times, as if too quick a touch would wake him from a much-needed rest.

“Why couldn’t you tell me?” her voice whispered, still stroking Horris’s forehead, making Draco feel intrusive once again, “Why did you leave me now?”

How many times had she comforted him, just like this after a rough meeting or tiring training session? Hell, how many times had she done this while he had been ‘Harry Potter’? How much closer would they be had he told them… her… his identity? Oh, how much time and how many problems could have been spared had he told them. Then again, Draco could not help but wonder if he could have handled the reality, or if he would have tried to climb by betraying the Boy-Who-Lived.

“Draco…” he heard her beckon him softly away from his morbid musing, “let’s go.”

“Sit, Draco, and put some wards about,” he acknowledged the blond entering his office. He probably didn’t need to remind the boy of warding anymore, but old habits were hard to break.

“Yes, Sir,” the boy responded, setting himself into the chair before him, “already done.”

He took a moment to simply study the new leader of the Asps, noting how the extra pressure was forcing his abilities to grow quicker than Severus had predicted. It seemed like only yesterday raising wards proved quite taxing on the Beta, who now raised them almost as easily as Horris used to. Still, he was sure Draco was at his wits end.

“Are you immune to Dreamless Sleep?” he asked.

“No, Sir, should I be?”

“Horris had built up an immunity to the point of uselessness shortly after the winter holiday,” Severus explained, glad that Asps seemed to simply build up a tolerance instead of the addiction normal wizards experienced.

“I’m sorry, Sir, I did not mean to bring Ho-”

Severus’ hand rose to silence the boy, not wanting the young man’s pity or self-respite.

“You are to take a double dose tonight. Yes, I know Asps can go weeks on end without sleep, but you have not rested easily all week and are clearly a moth’s wing away from losing yourself altogether.”

“But-”

“You should be rested when you act on your decision come Monday. It would not do to have you appear weak and indecisive.”

“Which brings me to my next point, Draco,” he continued, not wanting to continue with this topic, “Have you reached a decision?”

“Yes, Sir,” Draco answered without hesitation, “we leave when Dumbledore announces Horris’ passing.”

“I will have the portkeys ready to take us to the manor, then.”

“Us, Professor?”

“I have decided to resign.”

“Dumbledore requested we not tell anyone that Horatius was previously Harry Potter,” he stopped the blond before a protest could be made, “I agree.” This was not a decision he would allow Draco to alter or second-guess. “As annoying and wrong as it feels to keep Horris’ past a secret, breaking the Wizarding World’s hope could prove disastrous.”

“Surely you do not expect Voldemort to keep quiet about Horris!”

“As long as we deny it, or do not confirm it in the least, it will be viewed skeptically at best. You will not confirm it, and you are to inform Lea to also hold her tongue in check,” he insisted, to which Draco gave a sad but accepting nod.

“I’ll see to it, Sir.”

“Sleep first, Lea will not tell anyone before they ask. Had she wished to, she would have done so by now. Do you plan to warn her of your departure?”

“She wants to stay.”

“As expected,” Severus agreed, “you must not make this any harder on her than it already is.”

“She may be in danger here, Professor, especially if you plan to leave as well.”

“Horris inspired loyalty beyond his Asps, Draco, trust it to survive his death.”

“The Slytherins.”

“Yes,” he nodded, smirking for the first time in a while, “I doubt any would let harm come to her, even without you requesting their protection.”

“She’s been sleeping in Gryffindor all week, Sir,” Draco pointed out, still apparently unsatisfied with Lea’s protections,

“Which proves even those numbskulls are not about to assault a grieving witch. Let her have your room when she needs it, tell the Slytherins to keep an eye on her and trust in her ability to take care of herself. She will be fine, Draco.”

“I apologize for earlier…”

“Not necessary, I assure you.”

“Still, Sir,-”

“No, Draco,” Severus insisted, “I am not going to let you punish yourself over this. I have suffered through many losses in my life, and I know how difficult the first ones are.” He did know, though he had never felt quite as hopeless as he did now. He had heard someone say a parent should never have to bury his child… and oh, how right that someone was. Still, he would have his time to break down and grieve the loss. For now, he had to make sure Draco would survive it.

“He was your friend, a true friend… something few Slytherins get a chance to experience. Do not think it a sign of weakness for his death to effect you so.”

“They need me to be strong, Sir,” Draco negated.

“The hardest part of leading is having so few people to help you through hardships,” Severus agreed, hoping Draco and Lea would seek this help in each other.

“But earlier…”

“There is a time and place, Draco, and this you must learn well… and quickly. Besides, grieving and losing control are two different things. Only imbeciles and those too weak to do otherwise are allowed the luxury of a mental breakdown. You have both brains and strength of will – use them.”

“Was there anything else, Mr. Malfoy?” he asked, once it was obvious Draco would not say anything. Perhaps he had pushed too hard?

“No, Sir.”

“Take a double dose of Dreamless Sleep then,” he ordered, handing him a vial before gently pushing him towards the door. The boy would feel better tomorrow… at least Severus hoped he would. For now, it was time to return to his own grieving.

Dad,

You have no idea how hard this is for me (or maybe you do, though I’d rather hope you never had to prepare for something like this). I’m sorry if this proves one of my most unarticulated letters, or if it has more post scripts than should be allowed, but I have only the vaguest idea of what I should say, and to have to re-write this might kill me before Soulshadow or Voldemort get their chance. I thought about writing to you last, as by then my words would probably be far more concise, but I could not forgive myself if something should come up (as it often does in our lives) that forces me to leave you without a letter.

Thus, I write you first, and ask that, if something does come up, you let the others know I did plan to write a few words to them as well. If I don’t get the chance, tell Draco to hold on, that I’m sure he’ll make a fine leader and that he had better keep you and Lea safe (don’t argue, I want you taken care of). Tell Lea I’m sorry, please, though I’m sure you think I have little to be sorry for, and to the others, tell them I’ll miss them. And that I forgive Sirius- that I have for a while now.

I can’t stress how much you mean to me, Dad, how much you have changed my life for the better. I know you think your presence forced me into things I didn’t want, but the truth is, I had accepted my lot in life as a weapon against the Dark Asshole, and honestly, expected to die by his hand before graduation. You changed that. You, Dad, gave me hope- let me accept that there would be more to my life than this war and my role in it. You cared, and for that I can never express how grateful I am.

I want you to promise me you will not revert to spending long hours alone in your dark dungeons. I hope that you make peace with Aunt Abby, as I’m sure she sees your father in you, as you saw James Potter instead of me. Also, take care of Draco. I loved him like a brother, and I know you care for him as well. I fear what his own father will do if (when) he learns we are not fighting for Voldemort but against him so I need to know he could turn to you if the need arises. If you find yourself alone, invite Alex over; I know the kid burrowed into your heart and he really does like magic. If you feel inclined, you have my blessing and full support in naming either your heir.

I know-

Severus put the parchment back into the battered envelope. He felt on the verge of tears already, and he would not be able to forgive himself if the blasted things made the ink run. H e could read it later. He had the thing memorized already, either way. For now, following his own advice and getting some much-needed rest would do him a world of good, as well. The next few days might push them all to the edge.